


Don't Trust Me

by snowisfalling



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Don't Trust Me- 3OH!3, F/M, Post-War, Songfic, club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:39:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowisfalling/pseuds/snowisfalling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war enabled the future generations of the world to grow up free and without fear. But what price did Draco's generation pay? What is the true price of freedom? Songfic to Don't Trust Me by 3OH!3</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Trust Me

  
_Black dress, with the tights underneath,_   
_I've got the breath of the last cigarette on my teeth,_   
_And she's an actress, but she ain't got no need,_   
_She's got money from her parents and a trust fund back east._   


 

Draco took a long drag of his cigarette as he weaved through the late night crowds, it was a Saturday and many young witches and wizards were out for a good time. Taking a final puff he discarded the butt and continued on. He was trying to kick the habit, but not having much luck, turning down a sidestreet the crowd began to get thicker, he was on his way to one of the newer clubs that had sprung up. Drawing his coat closer he strode past the ever growing queue, immensely glad that the Malfoy name still carried some weight and he wouldn't have to spend half his night waiting. Ducking under the red rope and nodding to the burly bouncer he entered the heaving club. Dance music was pounding and after handing his coat to the witch on the door he made his way over to the bar. Always his first point of call. It was far too long since he'd been out, the company really was starting to pile the stress on, but he was here to get away from that. Sipping a firewhiskey he turned, placed his elbows on the bar and surveyed the room. A few lucky witches caught his eye, many dressed in tight revealing tops and tiny hot pants, almost the uniform for party girls these days; tonight however Draco was up for a challenge. He could get a quick fuck anywhere, one flash of that trademark smirk and the panties were off in a flash. No tonight he needed a bit of entertainment, a witch who'd make him work for the honour. After a few careful sweeps he sighted his mark- a certain brunette who was dancing seductively with her back to him, she was wearing a skin tight black dress and suspender tights, sexy yet not easy and boy did she know it. She was acting up for her audience, at least five wizards were gawping and she was using it to her full potential. Knocking back the rest of his drink he began to stroll across the dance floor, he'd have her begging by the end of the night.

 

  
_T-t-t-tongue's always pressed to your cheeks_   
_While my tongue is on the inside of some other girl's teeth_   
_Tell your boyfriend, if he says he's got beef_   
_That I'm a vegetarian, and I ain't fuckin' scared of him_   


 

Slowly Draco joined in the dancing, attracting the attention of a skimpily clad blonde, gyrating her hips she locked her eyes on Draco. Clearly not a challenge but she may be a great help to his plan, he grabbed her hips and manouvered her backwards into his mark's eyesight. Circling her he brushed her platinum hair over her shoulder, grazing his fingers down her neck. He ducked his head and began to kiss his way up her neck, impatiently she span and grabbed his neck bringing his lips to meet her. After kissing her deeply he pulled away, manoeuvred his lips into that famous smirk and sauntered off. Resuming his position at the edge of the dance floor he eagerly looked towards the appealing brunette for her reaction. Nada. Nothing. Zilch. She hadn't even turned in his direction! Slowly he stalked around the edge of the dancefloor, time he got a lot at her face, surely she was just being difficult? No woman could resist Draco Malfoy!   
She was still putting on a show, slowly swinging her hips from side to side running her hands through those long curly locks. His gaze traveled up her body, slowly appreciating her curves, until it hit her face. Her lips were slightly parted and her tounge was teasing the inside of her cheek; she was slightly flushed no doubt from the sheer body heat present in the club. Her eyes were of the deepest caramel, oddly just like those of.. No way. Merlin's saggy balls! It was her! But it couldn't be, could it?  
The Gryffindor princess, Hermione Granger herself! He was surprised to see in here at all without her annoying little posse. Nevermind dressed like she was and dancing like that! She definitely knew what she was doing and despite the startling discovery, he still couldn't keep his eyes off her.   
Where was her ginger arse of a boyfriend? Ron fucking Weasley. Nothing got under Draco’s skin more than Ronald Bilius Weasley. Just because he got signed as a goalkeeper to a premier league quidditch team he felt the need to start throwing his weight around, swanning about acting like he was king ding! Did he honestly think he was that good? Draco himself had turned down the opportunity to play as seeker for the top of the league team the Tutshill Tornados! Dragging his thoughts away, Draco returned his mind to the scene in front of him. Hermione Granger, alone in a bar. Draco focused more on her face, she’d definitely changed. The last time he’d seen her was at the high profile reunion party she had organised 3 years ago, back then she was still the incredibly annoying driven know-it-all. Determined to be the best healer St Mungo’s had ever seen. He could honestly say since then he hadn't heard much about her, apart from a small picture in the Prophet depicting her as bridesmaid to Potter and the youngest Weasel it had been total radio silence. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it was something in her eyes that had altered. They had a wild, almost feral look to them and it was clear that this wasn’t the first time she had been wasted in recent months. What had happened to the prim and proper bookworm?

 

  
_She wants to touch me (whoa)_   
_She wants to love me (whoa)_   
_She'll never leave me (whoa, whoa oh oh)_   
_Don't trust a hoe_   
_Never trust a hoe_   
_Won't trust a hoe_   
_Won't trust me_   


Draco was still stood gripping the bar, trying to process the information that was flooding his brain. Too engrossed in fact to notice that Hermione had decided it the time right to pounce. She stalked over, casually swinging her hips.  
'Hello Draco' she whispered into his ear.  
She grabbed his hand, pulling him away from his spot at the bar and slowly began to circle him, imitating exactly what he had done to the blonde slut earlier.  
‘Fancy seeing you here.’ Her lips were now so close he could feel them brushing the shell of his ear and her scent of pure strawberries and sunshine curled itself around his senses.  
Completing a full circle she ran her hands up his chest, agonisingly slowly, before gripping his collar. She began to lean towards him and he felt his eyelids flutter closed, he could feel her breath on his face and her warm hands on the back of his neck. Just as their lips brushed she stopped abruptly causing Draco to open his eyes. He was met by a smirk that would rival even his and a tinkling laugh that managed to penetrate the heavy music and flow straight into his ears. Followed by three little words that had him almost shaking with rage.  
'Far too easy.'  
With that she stepped back onto the dancefloor and was quickly swallowed back into the crowd of sweaty bodies.

 

  
_X's on the back of your hands_   
_Wash them in the bathroom and drink like the bands_   
_And the set list, you stole off the stage_   
_Has red and purple lipstick all over the page_   


 

He stormed back over to the bar and ordered himself three shots of firewhisky, how dare she play him? He was Draco fucking Malfoy. He was the player! The amused barman had watched the whole encounter and now felt the need to comment.  
'Wouldn't be too sorry about that one mate, right little handful there.' Not discouraged by Draco's silence and the not so subtle glare aimed his way he continued.  
'Nearly had to kick her out last night, she showed up within an hour of us opening, next minute she's at the bar chatting up a band member comparing hands. Didn't realise until about midnight that she'd removed the magical stamp to mark her as a customer. Bands and their entourage get free drinks you see. She must be a bloody brilliant witch, we paid a pretty penny for that spell to be developed, shouldn't break once it's on until 24 hours later! Stormed on stage next dancing with the band and grabbing their setlist. Bouncers appeared and she just left. Poof, gone. Any idea how strong the wards are on this place mate? Strong enough to stop a hammered witch apparating that's for sure.'

 

  
_B-b-b-bruises cover your arms_   
_Shaking in the fingers with the bottle in your palm_   
_And the best is, no one knows who you are_   
_Just another girl alone at the bar_   


Draco grunted in return, thinking it odd that the barman doubted Granger's skills. She was a member of the Golden Trio. She didn't earn the nickname 'brightest witch of our age' for nothing!  
'I'd certainly like to know who she was.' With those parting words the barman turned to fill another order.   
Draco was puzzled, didn't he recognise her? I mean she'd certainly changed a bit, but was she really that different? No longer interested in fucking her he started to really study her. True she looked hot and possessed curves in all the right places but that's all there seemed to be. That look in her eyes no longer made her look wild, just empty. Beneath the makeup she had bags under her eyes and her arms were littered with day old bruises, probably from more drunken escapades. She left the dancefloor, tottering over to the bar before ordering herself a bottle of liquor. Her small hands shook as she tried to grip the bottle and she nearly choked she was pouring the liquid down that fast. No wonder nobody recognised her, Hermione Granger an alcoholic club slut? He wouldn't have bet a knut on it!

 

  
_Shush, girl! Shut your lips_   
_Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips_   
_I said shush, girl! Shut your lips_   
_Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips_   
_I said shush, girl! Shut your lips_   
_Do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips_   


 

She caught his stare and began to stalk over, her swaying hips no longer looked appealing, more like Lavender Brown on crack. Her words were no longer sultry, just slurred and her breath stank like a brewery. She was, all in all, a pathetic picture; reduced to a mere shadow of herself. The war haunted people in different ways, Draco had thrown himself into the company, burying himself under piles of paperwork. Weasley had thrust himself into the limelight, basking in the glory of international sporting fame. Potter had closed himself off, preferring to live a quiet life out of the public eye with his wife and children. Granger had clearly chosen anonymity. Preferring the life of a nobody, pretending that she didn't lead a rebellion or sacrifice so many people she loved. The drink, the sex, the partying. It was all a way to forget. She was still stood in front of him and just for a second he saw under the facade. A scared, lonely girl who just wasn't strong enough to confront her demons.   
'Good luck' he whispered.   
Then turning on his heel he made for the exit, after quickly retrieving his coat he walked into the cold night. Plucking a cigarette from his pocket and lighting up he took a long drag. Slightly shook up by the confrontation with Granger he thought about his own life, who had he become? A chain smoking workaholic with a penchant for no strings sex. Really they were all just trying to cope. The war may have freed the future witches and wizards but it had killed his generation. They were all slowly drowning, just trying to do whatever possible to keep their heads above water. With that thought he drew his coat closer and apparated to the office, there was a contract he desperately needed to look over for Monday's meeting.

Across the town a sobered up Hermione Granger was leaving the club alone for once, removing her heels she apparated to her dingy little flat and headed straight for the cupboard. Taking out a glass and a bottle of whiskey she began to chase away the nightmares. Maybe tomorrow she'd find somebody to go home with. The pain, she'd found, lessened when you were so drunk you didn't know who you were. She often wondered if she would have made different decisions if given a second chance. Maybe she would have give up on the dream purely to escape the current hell in which she was living. She no longer had that luxury. Slipping into a drunken stupor she cursed her own naivety. Tomorrow would be no better. Nor the day after that. This was her life for as long as she could cope living it and worst of all, she only had herself to blame.

 

  
_Whoa, whoa, whoa..._   
_She wants to touch me (whoa)_   
_She wants to love me (whoa)_   
_She'll never leave me (whoa, whoa oh oh)_   
_Don't trust a hoe_   
_Never trust a hoe_   
_Won't trust a hoe_   
_Won't trust me_   



End file.
